The Factual Opinion

Comics of the Weak

Outsiders: Five of a Kind: Thunder & Martian Manhu nter #1
Written by Tony Bedard
Art by Koi Turnbull & Art Thibert
Published by DC Comics

The best of this so meager series, although it was the best due to plot devices that fail to come across as really believable--the implication from the final pages of this issue, something hinted at earlier on in the terrible Cap'n Boomerang issue, is made clear that Batman is building some kind of strike force that, in his words, will be "utterly ruthless."  You, me and any five year old knows that no matter how "ruthless" Batman gets, he'll never actually endorse murder--and it's not like there is any other line to cross.  Due to the last few years of Batman's "character development," his non-murder, non-over the top retribution status has been made canonical to the character.  (To the dismay of people who like those 1939 issues where he carried a gun and kicked guys into acid vats.)  To what is Bruce referring?  What "hell" is it he plans to put these people through?  In a previous issue, he told Nightwing that he "appreciated" what the team had become--and for the most part, so had this reader.  After all, the Outsiders had hit some snags, and due to some lapses in judgment and some terrible luck, they'd killed some people--convicted murderers, but people nonetheless.  Batman's interest in the team, due to it's place in the timeline of the story, seems to stem exactly from this period--the point at which the Outsiders moved from a by-the-numbers super-team to a group labeled, justly, as terrorists.  That status, for reasons yet to be explained, is what attracted Batman to the group.  As it reads, with it's implication of a continuing story similar to the 80's Suicide Squad, it's excellent stuff.  As it reads, as a comic that is clearly based on a lie, a story that will never come to fruition, it's a shit joke. 

The Flash #231
Written by Mark Waid
Art by Daniel Acuna
Published by DC Comics

The last issue of the Flash that this reader purchased was somewhere around issue #70--it was also written by Mark Waid.  Most comics readers will tell you it's nice to see a comic still be the same 200 issues later.

This little private fiefdom of judgment disagrees.  Flash #231 looks nice, it's readable, it makes sense.  It's also completely unnecessary, and unlike it's contemporaries (unnecessary readable comics that look nice, like the Ultimate X-Men series,) this reader doesn't have any investment, financial or personal interest, in the series.

In other words--we'll try again around #400.

Wolverine: Origins #16
Written by Daniel Way
Art by Steve Dillon
Published by Marvel

Gorgeous cover, excellent interior art.  Another terrible story, which seems to be the motif for Wolverine lately.  God hopes no one who enjoys the X-Men films ever makes the mistake of purchasing one of these things--it would be like reading Gravity's Rainbow because you enjoyed Thomas Pynchon when he showed up on the Simpsons with a bag over his head.

There's also a needless back-up feature reprinting an old Jim Lee X-Men issue, and a sneak preview of Marvel's attempt to repair the damage done by the hideous last six months by Jeph Loeb on this books sister title, Wolverine. Unlikely--excepting Mark Millar's fun version of Wolverine versus everybody, this comic has shattered the promise that the earlier issues by Greg Rucka seemed to promise. Wolverine Origins has never been that good, merely a regular opportunity to keep up with Steve Dillon--an artist who's art stands head and shoulders above the meager stories they tell.  In that vein, it's never a disappointment.

Loveless #19
Written by Brian Azzarello
Art by Werther Dell'Edera
Published by Vertigo/DC Comics

Impossible to recommend to a non-reader, yet strangely compelling.  19 issues into this series, and it's still relatively mysterious.  The closest thing to Cormac McCarthy or Toni Morrison of, in all honesty, any comic book that's ever been published.  Subtle, unpredictable, cruel and at times impenetrable, Azzarello's much-reviled Western series seems to be drawing to a close--but it wouldn't be that surprising if it decided to focus on an unknown side-character for another two years.

Checkmate #17
Written by Greg Rucka & Eric Trautmann
Art by Chris Samnee & Steve Bird
Published by DC Comics

Checkmate refuses to sit down and die, even as it's sales dwindle lower and lower--it's become the Exterminators of the DC mainstream line, a consistently great read that people actively buy less and less of, so they can make more room for toys or pocket pussies.  Oh well--great art, well told story, obviously you don't care.  Hopefully it won't turn Rucka off from working at DC.  That would be a shame.

It's tempting to extrapolate a criticism of regular comics buyers and the resulting low quality of comic books--after all, if anybodies to blame beyond the people who publish and create these things, it's consumers (like this one) who send good money after bad, instead of leaving the damn thing at the store. In the end though, comics are a tiny market, and it's always going to be that way.  More people are going to watch Pirates of the Caribbean movies than are going to watch Renoir's La Bete Humaine--that's just the way things go.  Comics are just a infinitely smaller portion of that same group--the group that wants to wrap their lips around Johnny Depp's shaft.

In other words, of course more people buy confusing ass Spider-Man comic books than buy 100 Bullets.  They're idiots.

The Top 25 Albums of 1983: #14

Def Leppard
Pyromania

Pyromania—as in, Def Leppard settin’ shit on fire.  As monolithic, immaculately-produced, chart-baiting, blockbuster albums go, Pyromania may be eclipsed only by its successor, the behemoth Hysteria.  Def Leppard’s breakthrough album is wall to wall hits, made from bricks of rock and mortar of rock.  That’s two rocks, people.  Three, if you count “Rock Rock (Till You Drop)” twice.  That’s how you know they’re serious.  If there wasn’t a cultural stigma about genuinely universal music, Def Leppard might still be the biggest band in the world.  Instead, we live through their influence on Fall-Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco singles (and, yeah, there are plenty of people out there who will try to convince you that “Sugar, We’re Going Down” isn’t a monster of a song, but these people are not your friends.)

And yet, there’s a reason Def Leppard are unparalleled hit-makers of rock: because they play both sides of the gender war.  Check out the lyrical conceit of “Photograph:” Joe Elliott has your picture from a magazine, you’re his every fantasy, but he doesn’t want your photograph, he wants the real you.  This is why Def Leppard have a reputation as a band dug more by chicks than by dudes.  This is also why they’re geniuses—they speak equally to both sexes.  When the song’s for the women, the women have the power; when the song’s for the men, it’s time to party.  Guys: let’s pretend for a second that we still live in a world where the laws of rock are laid out right there in Pyromania’s opening track:  1) Women to the left, women to the right; 2) Your momma don’t mind what your momma don’t see; and 3) Anything goes.  Girls: let’s pretend we live in a world where all the men want you but know you’re going to break their hearts.  What would that be like?  Pretty nice, wouldn’t it?

-Marty Brown, 2007

The Top 25 Albums of 1983: #15

Talking Heads
Speaking In Tongues

Yes, it's the one that has "Burning Down The House."  Yes, it's the one that doesn't have Brian Eno.  And, yes, it's the one the one that spawned the "Stop Making Sense" tour, the Jonathan Demme movie, and the big suit.  It's a good Talking Heads album, which, by definition, makes it pretty great--and that's where the confusion arises for the guys here at the Factual Opinion.  When you're dealing with a monster year, and make no mistake, 1983 was a monster, with debut albums from some of the greatest American bands to ever appear on the scene, what is one to do with albums that are merely solid pieces of cultural ephemera?  These lists, for all their flaws, are an attempt to nail both the voice of a year as it was then, and the sounds of that year that resonate now.  Unlike January's 2006 breakdown, this is a list that can be interpreted through the work as history, whereas a more immediate "look-back" is always going to be infected by the personal--the Bloc Party album you're not sick of yet, but will be, the Mars Volta album that turns out to be something you don't miss when you lose the mp3 file--but with the 80's (and the new 70's project that Mr. Brown and Mr. Stone are currently making out with,) you've heard a lot of this stuff before.  You just didn't know it fell into the limited eyeball of the 1983. 

In other words, Speaking In Tongues is an album that will always be a favorite, even though most of it's songs are better addressed on the live "Stop Making Sense" issue, it just doesn't happen to be a powerhouse in the veins of the earlier masterstrokes--Remain In Light, '77, and Fear of Music.  Speaking In Tongues is great, and for 1983, it's just nearly top ten material, but it's not a revelation unless it's your first experience with Byrne and Co.  Happily, to get to that point of realization, you have to listen to it--a lot.  If you're in your late 20's, or mid 30's, than you probably already have.

-Tucker Stone, 2007

Comics of the Weak

Outsiders: Five of a Kind: Katana & Shazam # 1
Written by Mike W. Barr
Art by Kevin Sharpe & Robin Riggs
Published by DC Comics

Maybe it's just because this reader is more in love with Making the Band 4 than 99% of DC's output at this time, but shouldn't these "Batman's forming a team of guys who, by his definition, don't take no shit" one-shot comics be far more entertaining than they are?  Shouldn't the characters being asked be excited and eager to please?  And shouldn't there be rules regarding what gets dedicated to the late & great Jim Aparo?  Just because the man's talents were wasted on these kind of garbage comics doesn't necessarily mean he should get name-checked now that he's gone.  Still, this comic has spawned the now classic line, "As your weapon's name is your own, Katana, so that of my weapon is mine--call me BATTLEAXE!"   It's been to long since this reader has diagrammed a sentence, and our resident grammar addict is touring Switzerland with Turbonegro, but somebody should really handle that bad boy.  Especially the "so that of my weapon is mine" part.  Amazing.

Batman Confidential #8
Written by Michael Green
Art by Denys Cowan & John Floyd
Published by DC Comics

Is it time to add another dead superhero girlfriend on the pile of dead superhero girlfriends?  It looks that way for Michael Green's current, completely unnecessary, "origin of the Joker" storyline.  For those not in the know, who still care, ole Laughy Mc-KillsAlot has never had an official, here's-who-this-nut-is origin.  Of course, the fact that he's been wildly successful as a character without one hasn't stood on it's own, so when some guy who has written a few episodes of Heroes came along and offered, apparently DC couldn't say yes fast enough.  So here we go, and clever Alfred dialog notwithstanding, it seems to be headed for the predictability dollar, otherwise known as the fastest spent dollar in comic books.  Oh, and if you're into that sort of thing, and Lord knows you should be, you get to see Bruce in the sack, giving the old BatPenis a work out.  Dullsville, next station.  For added fun, maximize the cover.  It's ugly as shit.

Ghost Rider # 14
Written by Daniel Way
Art by Javier Saltares & Mark Texeira
Published by Marvel

Whether or not Ghost Rider has any plans to go anywhere, it's right back to being damn fine entertainment after the last two boring cross-over issues, where the Ghost Rider drove to New York, waved at the Hulk, then drove away so he could kill more demons.  God knows why the back roads and nasty highways of America are so full of demons, but it sure is lucky that they are--because it's yet to become boring watching Ghost Rider kill them, in the various weird and gross methods he so enjoys.  The only real complaint is that you shouldn't have to pay $2.99 for something this silly.

Green Arrow Year One #3
Written by Andy Diggle
Art & Cover by Jock
Published by DC Comics

Ah, so that's why they call him Green Arrow.  He made his first arrows out of trees and nature shit, so they were green arrows.  That makes sense.  Hating on this kind of stupid comic would be a lot easier if Jock wasn't such an incredibly good artist.  But he is, so even if more of that kind of are-you-fucking-serious stuff is coming, this is still the prettiest superhero comic on the stands--besides All-Star Superman, which any Factual Opinion reader knows is the be-all end-all of superhero comics, in every category.  In a strive for full disclosure, it should be noted that a recent attempt to show how nice the art in this comic is completely failed.  All that a showing was able to produce was some grunting--maybe Jock is an acquired taste?

The Incredible Hulk #109
Written by Greg Pak
Art by Carlo Pagulayan & Jeffrey Huet
Published by Marvel

Nowhere. This. Is. Going. Nowhere.

Stormwatch P.H.D. #10
Written by Christos Gage
Art by Andy Smith
Published by Wildstorm/DC Comics

One of the best regular titles of the Wildstorm line, which isn't much of a vote of acclaim, considering there's only 4 regular titles in the Wildstorm line.  Still, Stormwatch P.H.D. delivers on a regular basis, even when, this issue for example, the art is less than average.  Whether Gage is building to something, he's become the best kept secret in superhero comic books--everything he's working on is solid. 

Punisher War Journal #10
Written by Matt Fraction
Art by Ariel Olivetti
Published by Marvel

For anyone confused by last issues violence, and, according to idiotic websites some people should stop wasting time at, quite a few people were confused, Mr. Punisher-guy did actually kill that nice reporter last month.  It was mind-control, but he did kill her, violently, and there's a videotape of it, and she's never coming back.  He's sorry.  She was a real sweetheart.

Casanova #8
Written by Matt Fraction
Art by Fabio Moon
Published by Image Comics

Casanova, Fell and All-Star Superman.  Best three comic books to come out, ever.  Better than anything times four.

The Boys #9
Written by Garth Ennis
Art by Darick Robertson
Published by Dynamite Entertainment

Batman and Nightwing would totally doublestuff Catwoman.  You'd think you don't need to see it happen: you're wrong.  It's worth seeing.

Daredevil #99
Written by Ed Brubaker
Art by Michael Lark & Stefano Gaudiano
Published by Marvel

Has what happened in this comic ever happened?  An accidental murder of a bystander by a member of a super-heros supporting cast?  That's got to be relatively unique, and it's one of the freshest and most surprising things to happen in any comic book lately.  This reader didn't see it coming.  Excellent work.

-Tucker Stone, 2007

The Top 25 Albums of 1983: #16

James "Blood Ulmer
Odyssey

A disciple of Ornette Colman, James Blood Ulmer has quietly cranked out more than 20 albums in the last 30 years, and heads the very short list of master jazz guitarists of that era (alongside maybe only Sonny Sharrock).  As an introduction to Ulmer’s massive body of work, Odyssey is damn near unimpeachable, swimming effortlessly between free jazz, electric blues, and funk.  Assisted only by violinist Charles Burnham and drummer Warren Benbow, Ulmer twists though a series of what feel almost like avant-garde lullabies.  He alternates instrumental tracks with vocal tracks, and when Ulmer sings—as he does on “Little Red House,” “Are You Glad To Be In America” and “Please Tell Her”—he sounds a little like the classic bluesman and a little like Jimi Hendrix.  On “Please Tell Her” he sings, “Please please tell her that I had to go/ And I could hardly stay to wake her/ I love her so,” and when the song shifts abruptly into album closer “Swing & Things” it’s not difficult to imagine that Ulmer is already gone, chasing after the ephemeral beauty that Odyssey conjures.

-Marty Brown, 2007

The Top 25 Albums of 1983: #17

New Order
Power, Corruption & Lies

It's safe to say, even without a consult with Marty Brown, that if this countdown were about "The Coolest 25 Albums of 1983," then this album would be fighting for the number one spot with an album we haven't talked about yet.  (Can you stand the suspense?)  It's also safe to say that if this countdown were about Marty and Tucker trying to prove how "cool" we are, than this album would be higher up.  Luckily for you, and for the people unfortunate enough to work under those two's supervision, Marty and Tucker base their estimation of cool solely off how many books they've read found listed in Harold Bloom's Western Canon. 

For those in the know, New Order was the band formed from the ashes of Joy Division, following the suicide of Ian Curtis.  Due to a few years of unfortunate choices regarding the use (and abuse) of synthesizers and electronics in the mid to late 90's, those unversed in the glory that is Power, Corruption & Lies might operate under the misconception that this album is one they can safely ignore, shelving it in the "get to it never" pile that most of the 1980's new wave/post punk/shit music properly lives in.  That would be a horrendous mistake--there's a reason why this album outsold Joy Division, and why it put New Order on the map.  It's a tremendous force to be reckoned with, a crackerjack album that stands alongside the Ian Curtis era, and puts to shame any of it's genre's counterparts.  More than twenty years later, it's one of the strongest arguments for the magic that electronic music can have, and it's one of the few albums labeled Post Punk that deserves the name.   After you've put away your sharpie marker and stopped wearing those beat-up Vans, this is the album you listen to while experimenting with black sweaters.  In other words, this is the music that you're actually going to get laid too.  And she won't be drunk, either!

-Tucker Stone, 2007

The Top 25 Albums of 1983: #18

The P-Funk All Stars
Urban Dancefloor Guerillas

P-Funk doesn’t settle nicely into today’s pop landscape because it’s not typical headphones music; it demands a party.  Known mostly as George Clinton’s touring band through the 90’s, Clinton initially formed the P-Funk All Stars in 1982, while still riding a decade-plus stride of genius that showed no signs of slowing down.  He wasn’t kidding around with the name, either: Parliament/Funkadelic superstars Bootsy Collins, Eddie Hazel, Dewayne Blackbird, Gary Shider and Walter “Junie” Morrison all show up in various combinations on the All Stars’ debut album, Urban Dancefloor Guerillas.  So do Bobby Womack, Maceo Parker and Sly Motherfuckin Stone, who composed “Catch A Keeper” for the album.  Throughout, Guerillas provides exactly the kind of gut-punching, dancefloor-baiting funk we’ve come to expect and need from Clinton, with plenty of high points (album opener “Generator Pop,” lost barbecue classic “One Of Those Summers”) and a couple of low ones (“Acupuncture”.)  Yet Guerillas has been largely forgotten—maybe because Clinton and the P-Funk Allstars were still chasing after an expansive, encompassing sound (with Prince and his crew quickly picking up the torch after them) at a time when popular music was becoming increasingly insular.

-Marty Brown, 2007

The Top 25 Albums of 1983: #19

Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble
Texas Flood

It's relatively difficult to overstate the impact that this album had on the Blues--while the album certainly suffers in comparison to, well, just about any of the 20th Century's earlier Blues greats, Stevie Ray Vaughan has to be credited with not only re-inventing a genre that hadn't had anything commercially successful in twenty years, but he did it straight out of the box.  It's not like Vaughan was the sort of "secret everybody knew about"--the man was laboring in hiding, playing the sort of non-trendmaking spots usually reserved for Led Zeppelin cover bands.  Until the release of Texas Flood, you didn't know who the guy was--unless you knew what a county fair was, or you preferred to drink in bars that treated all non-Pabst beers like an order of Japanese Sake.  The album was released not on the strength of a clamoring fanbase, but on the strength of Vaughan's supreme talent and technical mastery in a genre that was, and remains, dominated by dead men like Robert Johnson and Howling Wolf.  Vaughan amped up the rock aspect of the Blues sound, he ditched (whether it was the right choice or not) the more histrionic folk aspects that Dylan had infected it with, and he was hideously successful.  Although Vaughan passed too early, in a field where too many pretenders were left standing, his short studio recordings exist to document one of the rarest, and impossible to replicate, successful musical excursions of the 1980's. -Tucker Stone, 2007